rekindledtitan | Excerpt 006: Aggressive Defence

"--hat do you mean--ack!"

Steve pitches forward when they materialize, eyes wide and heart rate skyrocketing from the sudden transition from the nexus to someplace altogether different. He steadies himself with a hand against the wall, looking around slowly.

"...Holy shit."

The breathless swear says more about his state of shock than anything. When he said right now, Blaze didn't waste any time whatsoever. There's a slightly light feeling that Steve can't quite place until the forward displays catch his attention.

They're in space.

Space.

"Son of a..." Yeah no, Steve's gonna make his way over to the pilot's seat right away and sit down. His mouth hasn't properly closed since he arrived. "...This is incredible, you guys...!"

Blaze glances over her shoulder to make sure he's got his feet; Ghost hovers nearer to Steve, watching their human friend's reaction. "Sorry about the jolt. Are you all right?"

"We hooked our PINpoint up to the ship's transmat system. The combination takes some getting used to." Blaze keys in their new course and sets the engines to fire up, angling their nose down toward Earth. It's daylight below them, and between the wisps of white cloud it's possible to make out the coastlines of Southeast Asia and Old Japan, for a little while. Looks like they're heading west.

In the confined space, Blaze is more of a hulking figure than normal as she turns to take in Steve's face for herself. Whatever else he does or doesn't gain from this trip, she thinks it worthwhile just for these moments.

"Glad you like the view," she says. "The ride might get a little bumpy on our way in, so hold tight. Won't be anything to worry about."

"Yeah, no I'm fine. Just startled me was all."

The slight drop of his stomach is well worth the sight laid out in front of him. He can't seem to tear his eyes away from it. Steve knows form research that people had gone to the moon since his time, but to see space. To be in space. That's something he never thought he'd see.

"That's fine. I'm pretty sure you could throw me out and I'd die happy right this second."

"We have rules about doing that to guests," Ghost says dryly. It's a cheerful joke, though: the little bot is as happy as his Guardian to see the joy on Steve's face. They get a kick out of that, every time. Even as machines, knowing one glance is enough to capture the memory and have it never fade... it's still hard not to forget the piloting and just drink in their friend's reaction for a while.

Blaze certainly shoots more than one look his way before she makes herself focus on the approach. Her voice seems gruffer than usual when she says, "I'm glad we got to bring you."

The view is changing already as they drop out of orbit, however, the highest icy clouds rising up to meet them. And speaking of the moon, there's something in the distance, breaking the smooth glowing curve of the blue atmosphere where it rises through the clouds. Something round and silver and vast as a second Luna. It's soon obscured as they descend, by clouds and the jagged, mountainous horizon ahead. Beneath them are sprawling green forests, broken by regions of green hills and shining rivers... and the occasional grey smudge where ruined cities peek through earth and flora.

"Please tell me that the rules are simply 'Don't' for that."

Steve lets out a long breath he hadn't been aware he'd been holding as they push through the first clouds and begin their descent to...Earth. It is Earth, after all. It doesn't look like anyplace he recognizes though.

Hardly a surprise given he's never been outside of Brooklyn his whole life, but.

"Where are we, geographically? Europe? North America?"

"Don't do it to humans, anyway," Blaze corrects happily.

"We're passing over the south of Old China now. Those mountains ahead are part of the Himalayan range."

It looks like they're heading toward the dawn line, too: there's a glimpse of the shadowed arc of twilight ahead. No artificial lights to break it up, of course. And there's something else, too: a thick bank of clouds that looms over the sheer and snow-capped mountains, flickering with lightning. Neither bot seems concerned: they just keep flying toward it.

"The approach is always pretty stormy," Blaze comments. "Think it's part of the Traveler's defenses. The Fallen have never gotten far trying to attack by air."

The warning given before shakes the ship and Steve finds himself gripping onto the edge of his seat while the turbulence settles out.

"You guys don't have any problems being out in the rain?"

He's been told by several people not to get his phone wet. That electronics don't do well in it, as a whole. They both get a worried glance, but it's all Steve can spare since his gaze is still being captivated by the view ahead of them.

"The Golden-Agers built us to handle hostile environments. And even if they hadn't, that's what waterproofed clothes are for." Blaze raps her chestplate, though her gaze is fixed ahead. She's eager to sight their destination - for Steve to see it for the first time, above all. They're deep into the clouds now, lightning flashing around them and jolts of rumbling turbulence under the little ship. "Ghosts don't seem to mind, either."

"

Well, I don't enjoy the cold and wet, but I'm happy to say it doesn't harm me. The Traveler needed us to function in any place a potential Guardian could be found.

"

"It can get kinda chilly up on the wall this time of year," Blaze notes. She does glance back at Steve, there. "Reckon you'll be warm enough? We can find you some extra gear anyway, that won't be a problem."

"That's good."

It wasn't something Steve had even considered before but he's glad nonetheless that Blaze and Ghost would be alright even in rougher weather. He has a feeling that happens pretty regularly around here.

"Hey, if they have coats I'll be fine. Brooklyn in January is cold as a witch's teat so I'll survive, I'm sure." Not that Steve is all that eager to get sick again. His blue eyes are wide as the lightning flashes across their view. The cloud cover seems to be thinning and he's already leaning forward again, trying to get a look at the land below them.

They break out of the clouds quite suddenly, racing out into the clear pre-dawn sky. The Wall is coming up below them, a massive bulwark hundreds of feet high and mounted with massive rail guns.

But that's not going to be the first thing Steve notices. For all the scale of the Wall, it's dwarfed by the immensity of the silver-white sphere hanging just above the city. It shines faintly even now, save for the underside where the smooth metal turns dark, blackened and torn. The tallest skyscrapers huddle close under it, still alight at this hour and utterly miniscule beneath the scarred god-machine. The rest of the City sprawls out from around them, glittering urban districts giving way to green pastures and woods.

Blaze could almost sigh. She doesn't know if she's grown more sensitive to it, but the difference between the darkness out there and the light of the Traveler's presence seems tangible. Even the Nexus is a respite from the oppressive shadow that lingers over their system, but this is more than relief. It's comfort, rejuvenation. Welcome home.

"And there's the Traveler," she says, for Steve's benefit. Ghost glances up from communicating with the traffic control crews to check their friend's reaction. As a personal creation of the immense being ahead, he's... a little invested. Blaze is focused on guiding them in and about to their destination - no matter the hour, the City skies are criss-crossed with the paths of civilian aircraft and Guardian jumpships alike.

"Son of a....That's the traveler. Is..is it a moon? A sentient moon?"

What is he even looking at here. Steve doesn't know. But he's entranced by it. The city itself is impressive but. Nothing compared to what hovers above it. He can feel the logic center of his brain struggling with what he thinks he knows versus what he's seeing.

"Something that big...how does it keep from crashing into the planet? Does it mess with the ocean? Like..I...wow..."

Don't mind him. Just a puny human having his mind blown seven ways to Sunday.

Edited 2016-11-28 19:27 (UTC)

Blaze chuckles. "Yeah, guess it kinda is. A machine moon. Although I've heard people speculate on whether that's a vessel, or its physical body, or if that's just the part we can comprehend." She glances at Ghost. "I'm certain there's far more to it than what we see."

"

You don't have to worry. Even in death... or dormancy, the Traveler's never shown any sign of falling. Or affecting the tides. It's quite small compared to Earth's moon. Though I'm sure it would be careful not to interfere with the planet's gravity anyway.

"

Their view of it is going to be cut off for a minute though: the ship arcs around over the Wall and swings toward the great tower rising from the defensive bulwark. The outer side is all hardened shielding, but from this side there are visible open courtyards and even green places open to the sky. Pennants and banners in bright colors flutter from its points and hang from its walls.

"Are you okay to transmat down?" Blaze asks Steve. "We can dock and disembark the old-fashioned way if it's easier on you."

"Holy...shit."

It certainly looks a lot bigger than the moon, but then the moon is actually really far away so that's probably a good thing. Steve manages to pick his jaw up off the ground and shake his head to snap out of the awe induced trance he'd been in while staring at the Traveller. Having the view cut off definitely helps. He probably could have stood there all day.

"No I'm...I'm good." He thinks, anyway. Whatever transmatting is. If it was the same as that weird disappearing reappearing thing they did to get here, then at least he's prepared for it this time.

She nods, as she turns, grasping her smaller friend's shoulder just in case. "Get ready to find your feet."

The Exo's hand will be there to stop him falling when they drop onto the flagstones of the main courtyard. The controlled ship atmosphere is abruptly replaced with a rush of clear, cold mountain air, the close ship quarters with open space and - regardless of the hour - the echoing sounds of a busy headquarters. The courtyard sits on multiple levels, one side open toward the City. There's even a grassy lawn on which to sit and watch the world go by beneath the Traveler.

But on every other side are steps that lead to passageways and stairs to upper levels: the low-roofed hut where a gaunt service robot, rather less human-looking than Blaze, is busy sorting packages; the little tent closer to them where a robed fellow with blue skin is sipping his morning tea. There are banners everywhere fluttering from posts, marked with the geometric coat of arms that represents the Guardian classes.

Blaze has seen it much busier, but there are other Guardians going about their business. armored or cloaked or robed. There's a lot of weaponry. But there's laughter and chatter, too, greenery spilling over the walls, a gnarled tree spreading red-leaved branches over the young Warlock sitting among its roots.

"Welcome to the Tower, Steve." She gives him a bright look, Ghost sweeping his gaze around them. "Our, uh, real home."

Steve has been warned it was cold, but he still shivers without meaning to once they're on solid ground again. The breeze goes right through his well worn clothes and messes his hair up and into his face.

The air smells a bit funny, but that's nothing to the slight shortness of breath the altitude will leave him with after only a few minutes on the surface. He hardly notices at first because he's so busy watching all the Guardians wandering about the tower. His head swivels around at every noise, every fragment of conversation and laughter as he tries to take it all in.

"One heck of a home." Steve says softly before turning around to grin up at his friends. "Any chance I can get a coat or cloak or something?"

"Follow me." She leads the way inside, past the small cluster of Guardians around another of the thin, square-headed robots ("Confirmed bounty closed on Exile captain, Sea of Clouds; bounty outstanding for Cabal psions...") and down a low flight of steps. The internal hallways of the Tower tend to be windowless, the walls heavy and solid, painted with signs in English, Portuguese, Chinese. On the other hand they're also wide and well-lit, and the brightly patterned banners persist inside: emblems of legends the Tower still remembers.

"One of our doctors will want to talk to you, but that only should only take a few minutes. I already sent them my scans."

It only takes a few minutes for Blaze to find a very practical storeroom being inventoried by a technician. "Hey, can we get a spare coat for our friend here?"

"No problem, Titan." The man looks Steve over and heads to a crate marked 'S'. "Do you have a favorite color? We have them in blue, red, grey..."

"Hello."

Steve gives the most polite wave he can manage and probably manages to look like the least intimidating thing ever to be in the Tower. Maybe he's Blaze's pet. The world will never know. His face lights up when he's given a choice, and he hardly hesitates a moment before piping up-- "Blue, please."

It may not mean much to the technician but it means the world to Steve. Having a choice in what he wears never gets old to him. Not that he was ever ungrateful for the clothes he had before. The luxury of being able to pick just isn't something he's gotten used to yet.

Once he's bundled up in the coat with the hood pulled up over his head Steve peers up to blaze and Ghost with a slightly hidden smile that's still easy to see on his face somehow.

"Alright! Ready to go."

The technician's not exactly chipper, but he can't help smiling at Steve's face when he hands over the bundled coat. "I hope that helps."

The coat is a slightly more outdoorsy version of those worn by other civilians around the Tower - a technician's coat, waterproofed and padded on the inside. Blaze looks him over and gives a thumbs-up. "Suits you, Steve. All right, one more stop and then we go hunt down a tutor. We'll make it quick."

Said stop is to the doctor's office, alas. But the doctor in question is a mild-mannered fellow who introduces himself as Doctor Saab and is quite happy to talk Steve through what he needs. Which basically is to take a few tiny samples and screen Steve for any alien bugs he might be carrying - or any vulnerability to local ones. Local medicine isn't what it was in the Golden Age but at least he doesn't need more than a pinprick of blood for the screens. He might mention that this is largely confirming the data 'your friend's Ghost' forwarded.

Sorry Steve, Ghost has some gaping blind spots when it comes to matters of personal privacy.

(( Hope this is okay, just didn't want to either spend too long on the security details or skip a chance for Steve-development! ))

Steve has a very long list of things wrong with him Doctor. And that's not even counting the partial hearing loss in one ear or anything he's picked up since coming to the Nexus. He's learned to live with it but he is by no means a healthy man.

Hope reintroducing those 1940s germs of his isn't going to wreck the Tower. For his part though, Steve doesn't seem to mind that Ghost has found some sort of record of his medical history. It's convenient because he can never remember all of it.

Chances are he's going to be vulnerable to whatever super viruses are about here though. Best to be careful. it helps Steve stay calm that the doctor is quite human.

"I'm..uh..not from around here." Steve offers by way of explanation to anything strange in his files.

Edited 2017-01-11 17:09 (UTC)

"I know." The doctor looks away from the computer screen in front of him to give Steve a wry smile. "Don't worry, you're not the first person I've seen with a profile this, er, unusual. I know not to ask exactly how you came in contact with extinct fevers... as long as it wasn't here."

He moves away from staring at the file (mostly the results of scans on Ghost's part). "I used to work with incoming refugees down in the City, when I was training. People from long-isolated groups in every corner of the wilderness. I thought when I came here that I'd already seen the strangest cases the world could throw at us - after all, Guardians don't need doctors." He sounds quite amused by his own naivete.

"So, I see there's a note there indicating you have asthma. Can I ask if you are using some type of inhaler at present? Or any other medication? Have you felt at all short of breath since landing? We're just at a low enough altitude that most people don't have trouble adjusting to the altitude, but you should pace your physical activity for a few hours regardless. Allow your body time to adapt."

"No sir. Not here."

He gives a shake of his head and grips at the ends of his coat sleeves while the doctor goes over the file. Steve just doesn't want to cause trouble is all.

"I uh--I have been for the last year." Since he got to the nexus, that is. "The only treatments available back home were shots or pills. This seems to work better. I uhm...a little bit? I've mostly just been a little light headed."

"I wouldn't worry too much about that," the doctor reassures him. "Okay, Steve, I'm going to give you a quick injection to make sure you're inoculated against the worst bugs you could pick up here, and some pills to take if you start to feel the effects of altitude sickness. Does that sound okay? You can always come back if you'd like to go over anything else or if you have any questions, but I think that will be enough to begin with."

"Yessir."

He's more than used to getting poked with needles and all manner of unpleasant doctory type things that usually come with his visits to medical professionals. Frankly, he's surprised that no one's tried to open him up for science and figure out how in the heck he's still alive with all the junk that's wrong with his body.

Just let him slip the coat off and roll up his sleeve on one of his arms for the doctor.

"More than fine to me. I don't wanna catch anything while I'm here any more than you all want to treat me for it."

The injection Dr. Saab gives him is cold and prickly and comes with a brief sensation of pressure, but there's no visible needle. Once that's done he finds a small canister of pills and double-checks the specifications before he hands it to Steve with a list of instructions on when and how and why to take them.

"If you feel unwell in the next hour, you need to return and see me immediately. And don't exert yourself too much today: sometimes Guardians forget that other people need to rest now and then." The doctor gives him a smile. "Of course, I expect your friend's Ghost will be watching over you as well."

When he sends Steve on his way it's with a friendly hope that he enjoys his visit. Blaze is standing outside, talking to a blue-skinned Warlock in a long green robe while Ghost peeks in through the door. She lifts a hand to greet Steve's return, the Awoken man with her studying the young man with glowing green eyes. "Hey, how did it go? Ready to go talk some weapons design?"

The Warlock coughs for attention and offers Stevea hardened ID card: there's no picture, but his name and the words 'Visitor Pass' are on it in three languages. A Ghost with barred markings on its shell watches from over his shoulder. "Courtesy of the Vanguard, to ensure you don't get lost."

"Oh you know. Shots, warnings that I should be careful, and come see me if there's any side effects. The usual."

Steve is busy tugging his coat back on and rebundling himself to be as warm and toasty as possible. It's now that it's been mentioned that he notices having to breathe harder because of the altitude. Hopefully that will go away as he acclimates.

"Oh, uhm. Hello there sir." He takes the ID card gratefully and gives a bit of a nod. "I appreciate it." It will get tucked away under his bundle of coat in short order so as to ensure he doesn't lose the card.

"Heh, medic stuff." Blaze nods sagely, being an expert on that kind of thing. Clearly.

"My pleasure." The Warlock sweeps a graceful bow, as Awoken are wont to do. Note that you do not have authorization to visit the City at present, but you are welcome here." He glances at Blaze. "I hope you find what you seek."

"Thanks, Urien." Blaze lifts a hand in farewell as he leaves, but her attention is swiftly back on Steve. She claps a hand on his shoulder and leads him back toward the entrance plaza. It's the only way to reach their destination- into the low entrance that lay directly ahead when they first arrived.

"Lord Shaxx keeps his post outside the Vanguards' hall," Blaze explains, possibly overestimating how much sense that will make to Steve. "He oversees the Crucible- live-fire combat training, Guardian on Guardian. He'll want to take a look at your shield, and he'll know who to ask about training."

"I think he knows everyone. He's one of the most senior Guardians in the Tower."

He waits until the Warlock has made his departure before he looks back up to Blaze with one eyebrow raised.

"Hey, what's the difference between here and the City?" He sort of thought that's where they were, but if not there certainly seems to be enough folks hanging around wherever here is. The tower? He's not totally sure. As long as what they need is here he's sure it won't be a trouble.

"So...he's the officer in charge of training the Vanguards?" Steve tries to make sense of her explanation anyway, equating it to what he knows about the army from his own time.

"

Right now we're inside - well, on - the wall that surrounds the city. The Tower here is home and headquarters for all the Guardians, and the last line of defense between the outside world and the rest of the City. I think the Vanguards just want you to stay where they can keep an eye on you for a while.

"

Blaze nods. "The Wall, the Tower - us - it's all part of the City, but sometimes when we talk about it we mean everything down there." She gestures to her right as they pass one of the open balconies, with the vista of the Traveler and the metropolis below. "Most of it's civilian stuff, anyway. We've never needed to go down there."

Probably ought to visit, one day, but there's always something more pressing, she thinks.

"Training them?" Blaze laughs, tickled by the idea. At least she's quick to explain the joke. "Think he'd love to get them into his arenas, but nah. The Vanguards are our central leadership - sort of like generals, but we don't have the kind of rigid military hierarchies old armies used to. Shaxx kind of answers to them, I think. But the Crucible is his and nobody messes with it."

One thing Steve will soon come to realize about Guardians is that for as dedicated as they are, for as brave and loyal and trustworthy as they are with important matters... their idea of military discipline does not involve standing still, acting with decorum or consistently following orders. (Obeying quarantine is Right Out.)

"Not enough people for that kind of thing? Or just, not that kind of operation?"

It seems bizarre to Steve that they wouldn't have a formal military to combat there varied and many enemies, but they seem to do alright for themselves so it's probably best if Steve doesn't press the issue too terribly much. The last thing he wants to do is accidentally offend anyone.

"Well, you folks may not need training, but I sure do." Steve reaches back and taps at his shield. "I'd like to do a little more than flail aimlessly with it."

"A little of both. With the number of Guardians we've got, it makes more sense to focus on small-unit tactics with largely independent fireteams. About the only time we fight pitched battles is when the City is threatened - and then the Vanguards are in charge, no question."

"That, and Guardians are notoriously, um... independent-minded."

"Mostly the Hunters, but yeah. The way we're chosen doesn't lend itself to training up a regular unit. And we're charged to protect humanity and fight the Darkness, but there's no rule about how. The Vanguards mentor new Guardians, but every one of us follows our own path, serving the Light as we see fit. When we have officers, it's because we choose to follow them. Not like they can force you to obey."

They have to go down a flight or two of low steps, and the lighting is significantly dimmer here. They have to go around a sturdy bulkhead that shields the hall from the wind (and sight lines) outside. A veiled figure watches them with three glowing green eyes from the shadows behind it. Blaze tips a salute to her in respectful greeting and... possibly gets a slight nod in return. It doesn't bother her: that's just Eris. Besides, the other Guardians passing in either direction are quick with a greeting if you catch their eye (or optic, as the case may be).

She's busy shooting an affectionate look at Steve anyhow. "Heh, Shaxx is all about training. Just might take a little while before you're ready for the live-fire type."

"Gosh, you woulda hated the Army back home."

Steve laughs outright but the way he grins at Ghost in particular says he knows what the little bot is so delicately trying to say without actually outright saying it. Still, Blaze has a point. Steve can't think of any kind of drill sergeant no matter how rough and touch that could make Blaze drop and give them twenty pushups or anything else for that matter unless she felt like it.

Come to think of it, he's not even sure the drills would help her out. That may have something to do with the lack of structure here too.

"Ready and willing." He agrees eagerly. Training may be rough work, but it will only make him better.

"Hey, we Exos used to be regular soldiers!" For a certain value of 'regular'. She's not referring to...well, Bryn... either, though there's a pang she has to shove to the back of her thoughts. "The rest of us, though, there's no telling who they were before."

Steve's attitude will stand him in good stead, not least with the likes of Lord Shaxx. They're about to step into the main antechamber to the Vanguards' hall. It's a room wide enough to accommodate one side being taken up by an armored Frame running a small armory on one side; on the other, by a couple of armchairs and couches behind a counter.

Monitoring the holographic screens atop said counter is a Titan bigger and more impressively armored than Blaze. The collar and shoulders of his white and orange armor are lined with shaggy fur, a twisting bull's horn sprouting from the right side of his blank, all-concealing helm. Its twin appears to be missing. Even his Ghost has a bigger shell. The Titan himself is intent on the battles playing out before him: teams of Guardians locked in combat with one another. As they approach, he leans closer and jabs a finger at the comm button beside one image.

"Alpha team is taking point C! Get on them, Bravo!" His voice is smooth, and British-sounding, and softer than one might expect. He switches to another display in time to catch something he likes, and laughs fiercely. "Three down! Excellent!"

Ghost leans toward Steve and whispers, "Shaxx really loves training."

"This....is just simulation, right? They're not really killing each other right?"

Steve shifts on his feet while he watches what he can of the screens that aren't blocked by Shaxx's enormous frame. He's admittedly a little nervous that he won't be good enough comparatively.

Not with seasoned soldiers of so many races and...no. He makes himself take a deep breath. He's here to learn how to do his part. Even if Shaxx refuses to train him, he may be able to watch and learn enough he can try on his own.

It's worth a shot.

"There's nothing more real than the Crucible. Its lessons are harsh, but for a Guardian death in the Crucible is a momentary setback. The Darkness won't be so forgiving." Shaxx speaks with weighty certainty, but his tone isn't unkind. He turns to look his visitors up and down, his Ghost drifting in to keep an eye on the monitors. Blaze salutes cheerfully and gets a nod in reply.

"Titan. Good to see you." His faceless gaze rests on Steve, armored hands resting on his hips. "And you don't look like my usual kind of customer. What can I do for you?"

"This is Steve Rogers, sir. We're looking for a Defender who can teach him how to use a shield."

"..So...they are okay after it's all over."

Steve doesn't want to ask how that works, but considering Blaze's physiology it's probably not the sort of thing that he'd be able to pull off. Best to not get killed in the first place. Or at least try not to.

Steve nods at the introduction before offering a salute. It's the Army salute form his time so it may not be immediately recognizable but the gesture is one of deep respect.

"She's correct sir. I'm looking for training."

It is indeed a very old gesture - but it'a also one Exos tend to use a lot, so Steve unknowingly comes across looking like one of the old mechanoid solders. Shaxx's gaze lifts to Blaze for a moment, probably wondering how much the young human's picked up from her. Blaze and Ghost muddy the waters further by looking rather proud.

"What you're asking is grueling even for a Guardian." Shaxx returns his scrutiny to Steve. "It wouldn't be the Crucible, but it would be dangerous. You've got nerve, I'll give you that. But who are you so eager to fight? And do you really think you're up to the challenge?"

He lifts a hand before Blaze can speak up on her friend's behalf: well-meaning she may be, but these are questions Steve must answer for himself.

"I don't know if I am."

Steve's admission comes before anything else. But he unfastens the shield he has strapped to his back and settles it on his right arm all the same. The crystal reflects the light from Shaxx's screens in the dim room.

"But I've never been given the opportunity to find out before. The world and time I come from is in the middle of a war. The place I met Blaze is safer, but innocent people are still being hurt. I have no right to do any less than anyone else. All I'm asking for is the ability to better survive the situations I will already be putting myself in."

He's got plenty of marks and scars for proof if Shaxx doesn't believe him, but there is nothing but determination and honesty in Steve's conviction.

“We can definitely vouch for that,” Ghost pipes up.

Blaze nods firmly. “That’s why we brought him here. We’ve seen him fight.” Shaxx seems to meet her gaze for a moment, but his attention remains on Steve: the resolve in the smaller man’s eyes, the determination with which he hefts that shield.

“I’m not doing you a kindness,” he says finally. “It’s going to be hard, and I guarantee it’s going to hurt. There’ll be days you wish you’d never come to me. Stay on this path and it won’t be a question of whether it kills you, only when and how. Maybe you won’t even last that long.”

The big Titan leans forward a little, his voice lowering as his tone intensifies. “But you know what I think? I think the enemy doesn’t give two smoking damns if you’re ready or not. War doesn’t pick on people its own size. You step out there, you’d better be ready to face it. And before you ask, Ghost- yeah, I’ve heard the rumors, I can guess where he’s from. “ His own Ghost is looking curiously at that shield. Shaxx nods in its direction. “So how about a deal? You let my Ghost take a look at that shield’s composition, and I’ll recommend you to one of our Titans for training.”

"I'm used to pain."

It's not something he likes by any means, but it is something he's had to get used to over the years. From his asthma to the bruised and broken bone she's gotten standing up for what he feels is right.

"I don't like bullies, no matter what form they come in, sir." If Shaxx thinks he knows who Steve is, then it's all the better for him right now. He's never thought that about the man people think he should be before but he is right this moment. Steve is careful when he pulls his shield off of his arm and offers it to the commander.

"I accept the terms."

Shaxx handles the shield with respect as he takes it to inspect, testing it with his own strength to see how it handles the force. His Ghost flies down to sweep it with the blue light of a scan. There's a noticeable lift of Shaxx's head after a moment, and Blaze can't resist chuckling when he speaks.

"Hmm. Heavier than it was - automatic mass adjustment? Where did you get this?" The serious negotiations over with, Shaxx's tone is all fierce interest again. "It's sturdy. Classical design. This will serve you well. You need to talk to Tarana Parvin downstairs. She knows more about shields like this than anyone else in the Tower. I'll send word that you're cleared for training."

"Thank you, sir." Blaze's gratitude is warm, though it gets her a very stern look in return. Direct, anyway. Shaxx's expressions have to be from his voice, and that's stern enough.

"Don't thank me, Titan. Just start showing your mark in the Crucible again. What, do you think surviving a few Wolf hunts makes you an Iron Lord? I want to see you in there learning from your elders, novice. Make time for it."

"Yes, sir." Blaze rubs an antenna, looking distinctly chastened. "I know I've still got plenty to learn. I'll be back."

"It was a birthday gift from a friend."

Steve's voice is proud when he speaks about the shield. Harrow had it made specially for him. But that also means it's probably more magical than it is scientific in design.

"I'm not sure how it works much beyond 'magic'." He pauses when Blaze is chastised, and then shakes his head. "I'll thank you instead. And not because you've done me a favor. Because you've given me a chance."

"I don't recognize the power that crafted it, but there's a darkness to it. Be mindful with this weapon." It's a warning, though Shaxx clearly doesn't feel too great a concern.

Once he and his Ghost have finished their examination, he offers it back - mindful enough himself to turn it so one edge rests on the ground. It's about a ton heavier than when Steve handed it over, after all. There's a nod of his one-horned helm at Steve's thanks.

"It's all any of us get. The chance to make a difference. I'm trusting you to make it count. Go ahead and find Parvin. She'll be in the halls of the Stoneborn. You know the way, Titan?"

"We do, sir." Blaze gives him another respectful salute before they head back out.

They wait until they're out down the hallway (and the explosive sounds from Shaxx's station have resumed) before Ghost pipes up, "That went well! What do you think, Steve?</big?"

Steve figures that makes a lot of sense. Harrowheart is undead and his skills definitely aren't what one would consider aligned to the Light. Any kind of light. And he said Ixis Naugus helped with it, and Steve's got no idea what kind of magic the wizard wields.

There's no words for how grateful he is that Shaxx doesn't let go of the shield until it's resting on the ground. What was funny once would mostly just be sore and embarrassing on repeat. When he's able to lift it again he'll strap it back on his arm and follow Blaze out.

"I think I'm gonna die." Steve laughs nervously after he makes the comment but shrugs. "I didn't think he'd let me, to be honest."

"Because you're not a soldier already? Or because you're on the small side?" Blaze glances down at him as they make their way back out into the sunlight. "Shaxx's philosophy is that you can't know your abilities - or your limits - until you put them to the test. And he's been around since this city was nothing but a cluster of huts and tents. I think he knows you don't turn people away."

She looks around at the civilian technicians passing by, her fellow Guardians young and old exchanging news or striking up a dance party in the middle of the plaza. "Even if it's going to kill us. But it's not about our own survival."

"Because of everything that's wrong with me, mostly. All the recruiters used to say they were saving my life by not letting me enlist."

The sunlight is a warm reminder that this is still the world Steve calls home, even if nothing else about it is anything that he knows. This world could very well be his own in the far off future. He raises his head to look out across the base Blaze calls home and squeezes the leather straps that affix his shield to his arm.

"It's for the survival of everyone. The greater good. Yeah. I get that."

"Hmmm. Different perspectives, I guess. To your people, sending you out in the field is just putting you in harm's way. To us, being human means you're already there. And like we were saying earlier, your army and ours have a lot of, heh, philosophical differences."

She claps a hand on Steve's shoulder as they circle the outside of the Tower and then turn right, down what looks like a small street all the way up here. It's shaded by pillars and overhead walkways, decorated with tiled patterns and draped with hanging plants. Various craftspeople are setting up their stalls for the day, while on either side are neon signs - and tasty ramen smells - advertising the presence of quiet little stores. Aside from exchanging greetings, though, Blaze is heading right through for the open doors at the end. They need to catch an elevator.

"Don't think I'm okay with you getting hurt," Blaze is adding as they go. Now that Shaxx has granted approval, it seems she's letting her excited good cheer run free. She's setting quite a pace, too, eager to show Steve something really cool. "I'm not ignoring your limits, here. But you deserve to find out where those limits really are, same as the rest of us. Hell, you're going to do that with or without help. You said it yourself. Better if we've got your back."

"Besides, I'm sure this instructor knows what she's doing," Ghost comments hopefully.

"I'm ready."

Says the small man in a thick blue coat that makes him look more like a child set to go play in the snow than a soldier. The tasty smells are cataloged for later inquiry but for now the human is eager and ready for anything.

Well, ready to be completely crushed but as long as he learns something he's going to count this as a success. There's several stalls all along the way to the elevator--a huge industrial looking thing that may have once hauled grain before it was used to shepherd Guardians and their gear. Steve picks up his pace to keep step with Blaze and makes right for it as well.

"Have you met her before?"

The Titan shakes her head, punching in the level they need to head for. "Heard of her. She used to be in the Pilgrim Guard - they're an order who focus on escorting refugees to the City. Back when I was new, my friend Kaolin told me a story about her team walking an entire village out from under a Fallen flagship."

Blaze doesn't hide the admiration in her voice. She loves getting to meet the heroes out of her elders' tales. Delights in the fact that they're her brethren.

"She's with the Stoneborn now. They're more concerned with the direct defense of the City..." Ghost looks down at the floor, scanning through unseen records. "It looks as if she's been doing a lot of work on weapons testing over the years." They're descending steadily- and they have a bit of a way to go. Good thing the elevator runs smoothly. "We'll find her in the Titans' halls."

"Yeah. It's nice to come home once in a while." Blaze shoots a warm look down at Steve. "Better to come back with a comrade, though." She's looking forward to it. When the doors clunk open to an imposing stone hallway, she's quick to point Steve's attention to the great stone statues on either side. All are legendary Titans, armored and poised for action: Wei Ning smiling fiercely, turned to look out past the Wall with a readied fist; Saint-14 with his crested helm keeping calm vigil; the Iron Lord Radegast with mailed hands folded over the pommel of his lowered sword. They're still heading out and toward the right, but Ghost has to take over guiding because Blaze is having fun pointing out different banners and the stairs down to the forges and that guy over there who kicked her ass in the Crucible. (It was awesome.)

"Are all of these Titans...er...deceased? Now?"

The pace has slowed considerably once they're out of the elevator and in the stone hallway. He isn't sure where to look first and so follows Blaze's directions and studies each of the statues in turn as they pass. Every banner has a story. A person who wore those colors.

For it being some version of his own world, Steve has a hard time imagining this place as Home. But Blaze calls it as such. He wonders if people would view his place in Brooklyn much the same way. An alien place with unknown customs.

The heat from the forges keeps the halls from being too chilly, much to the human's gratitude. He has to remove his hood before long lest he overheat.

But past the statues and down to the right there is more noise than there was when they got off the elevator. He squares his shoulders and tries not to look as small as he feels.

"Okay. You can do this, Rogers." He's not nervous. Shut up. Okay, maybe a little bit.

“They’re long gone, yeah. Wei fell on the Moon, Saint disappeared- don’t know what happened to the Iron Lords over there. Saladin’s the last of them, and he doesn’t tell that story.”

Ghost takes a moment to drop behind his Guardian and bob encouragingly at Steve. He can sense his friend's nerves. “Don’t worry," he whispers. "You’ve got this.”

The terrace they head out to is much busier than inside. There are Titans gathered at (or sitting on) a couple of long tables, passing around big canteens of tea or coffee; holding up a fallen flagpole so a tech can bolt it back into place; playing Go against their Ghost. A couple of the newer recruits are tussling on the grass. On one of the other lawns stands a Titan bracing herself beneath a shield. Not a round shield like Steve’s: this looks like a short tower shield, slightly kite-shaped. Its wielder lifts it with ease that seems to belie its apparent weight, meeting the fists of her sparring partner and even turning it sideways to bat away a blow, step in and clock him on the helm… if he wasn’t bright enough to step back.

“Guessing that’s our woman, huh?” Blaze remarks, taking the lead as they head over. She and Steve – mostly Steve – draw a few curious looks as they pass through the others. But the sparring pair don’t leave off until she steps onto the grass and salutes. “Ma’am? Lord Shaxx sent us.”

The woman lowers her shield and leans on it, tapping her blue helm to turn the visor transparent. Dark eyes study the pair of them – cheerful Exo and determined young man. Mainly the latter. Her voice is light and calm, slightly altered from being relayed through her suit. “Blaze-37 and Steve Rogers, yes. You are here to present yourselves for training.”

“Uh, well, I’m not much of a Defender. Steve’s the one with a shield.” Blaze shifts back half a step, nudging Steve forward. The elder Titan looks amused behind her visor. Her Ghost has materialized to take a look at the arrivals, its shell patterned in stormy blue.

“Well met. I am Tarana Parvin, captain among the Stoneborn. Since you’re to be my student, you can call me Tarana.”

“And I’m Jie,” says her green-armored friend. He gives the newcomers a wave, his Ghost appearing beside him with a little spin. “Hi!”

"Ma'am, yes Ma'am."

Steve stops and salutes her as he had Shaxx before, standing as tall and straight as someone with scoliosis can while he tries to remember all of these new names and faces. Armors.

Whichever, really.

It's not until the very perky Ghost pops up that Steve relaxes even in the slightest. He steps out of attention to see the little Ghost, a smile flickering across his face.

"I..it's good to meet you. All four of you." Because he does consider each's Ghost their own person. It would hardly be fair not to considering how close he is to Blaze's Ghost.

"It's an honor to train under you Tarana, Ma'am."

Tarana's face is still shadowed by her helm, but the crinkle of her eyes suggests a smile as she inclines her head to him.

"Let's take this somewhere quieter," she says, gesturing for them to follow. They aren't going far, just through a couple of archways to a more private little sparring courtyard. Aside from the banner hanging overhead it's much less decorated, the walls thick bulkheads lined with heavy-duty padding and the floor a little springy underfoot.

Tarana props that big tower shield against a wall, moves over to a sturdy bench and immediately removes her helm. She turns to face Steve as she sets it down and starts unlatching the rest of her armor. She looks like she's approaching middle-age, dark-haired and strong-boned.

"Shaxx tells us that where you come from is a secret," she says to Steve, now that they're on more even terms. "It is enough to understand that you aren't from the City. But I want to know now everything about how you have fought before. What opponents you have faced and how you fared with them. This is not a matter of judging you, you understand. This is about knowing the ground in which we plan to set down our roots."

Jie has drawn Blaze off to lean against the wall and gossip: although the Exo and her Ghost are keeping a close eye on their friend, it might be easier for Steve not to have such an obvious audience hanging over his shoulder.

There's something comforting about his trainer being human.

Nothing like thinking she would be weaker than Blaze or anyone else either. With her heritage, Steve figures she understands the weight of a life more than others around here. It's not nearly so simple for his kind to come back after dying.

Something simmers hatefully beneath Steve's skin. Who has he fought?

"Bullies and louts, mostly. The occasional mugger. I get knocked down a lot. The best skill I've got is getting back up." With his medical history, giving up is tantamount to death.

Excerpt 006: Aggressive Defence

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

Didn't get on to chat today but have a present! :)

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

Looks good to me!

\o/

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

Please excuse Blaze while she squees

A Different kind of Museum Experience

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject